


You're Perfectly Wrong for Me

by ardenpotter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, Song: Perfectly Wrong (Shawn Mendes), Stony - Freeform, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 05:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardenpotter/pseuds/ardenpotter
Summary: The love was still there; that perfect starry eyed, head over heels, teen movie kind of love that had been the start of their relationship. It was still there. But it was tainted, overshadowed by the spiteful words and heated anger. They were explosive; a perfect time bomb just waiting to go off.They were perfectly wrong. Maybe it was inevitable.Or the short, angsty songfic about Stony breaking up based on Perfectly Wrong by Shawn Mendes.





	You're Perfectly Wrong for Me

_Taste the poison from your lips_

_Lately we’re as good as gone_

_Oh, our love is drunk and it’s_

_Singing me my favourite song_

Tony knew it wouldn’t last. This short window of perfect, domesticated bliss. Steve sprawled across their bed, Tony lying with his head on his chest, secured down by the safe weight of Steve’s arm wrapped tightly around his torso. Soon it would be back to the fighting, the screaming and yelling and tear tracks down flushed faces. But when he lay there, Steve humming the first song they ever danced to, he could pretend. He could forget.

_Me and you, we were made to break_

_I know that’s true, but it’s much too late_

Tony could hear the pounding of skin on fabric from his spot on the other side of the closed gym door, heavy and constant as he imagined Steve’s fists colliding with the bag again and again. _onetwothreefourfivesixseven._ He could almost feel each hit in his chest, the vibrations travelling through the door slamming into him as he slid down the wall, head in his hands. _eightnineteneleventwelve._ Tony heard the seams of the bag split, the stuffing falling to the floor. He heard it break. It was always inevitable.

 

_You’re perfectly wrong for me_

_And that’s why it’s so hard to leave_

_Yeah you’re perfectly wrong for me_

_You’re perfectly wrong for me_

_All the stars in the sky could see_

_Why you’re perfectly wrong for me_

Even the good days were hard. Tony fit so perfectly in Steve’s arms that he forgot about the broken glass that shimmered on the kitchen floor like confetti. And when Steve whispered apologies in his ear, it was far too easy to believe the broken promises and thinly veiled lies. It was easy to pretend that they were still the same best friends that met on the quinjet all those years ago. The ones who talked in inside jokes and whispers rather than harsh words and insults. They were perfect. But they were wrong. So when Steve finally went to bed after a bittersweet kiss, Tony walked into the kitchen, and opened the liquor cabinet.

 

_Oh you know how much it hurts_

_Every time you say you hate me_

_But when we’re making love you make it worth it_

_I can’t believe the places that you take me_

It was a tense kind of silence that swept over their bedroom that night. It was easy to forget about the _I hate you_ ’s when you’re focused on making love, but once it’s over everything comes rushing back. The three words that had slipped from Tony’s lips in the middle of the lab hang in the air, invisible but heavy.  Steve’s permanently bruised knuckles sweep below Tony’s collarbone, making him shiver and move closer to Steve. The electric contact of their skin briefly takes away the memories. But it can never last for long. It’s only a matter of time.

 

_There’s no use, we were made to break_

_I know the truth, and it’s much too late_

Tony froze as his shoulders stiffened when he walked into the room to find a brand-new suitcase sitting in the corner of the room. He and Steve hadn’t spoken after a particularly heated fight that afternoon. Peter had come home seriously injured, blood running down his side like a river, sickening bubbles of yellow fat bulging through his torn skin. At least they had both managed to act supportive and loving while Peter was in the medical wing. But once Peter had retreated to the quiet of his soundproofed room, the yelling had started. It was Tony’s fault, all Tony’s fault. He knew it, but it still hurt to hear it. So maybe this would be for the best. Maybe this was a long time coming.

 

_You’re perfectly wrong for me_

_And that’s why it’s so hard to leave_

_Yeah you’re perfectly wrong for me_

_All the stars in the sky could see_

_Why you’re perfectly wrong for me_

The suitcase sat there, in the corner of the bedroom, for three months, an ever-present reminder of the seemingly inevitable. Tension rung through the air with every interaction, every word spoken, every touch, every kiss. The love was still there; that perfect starry eyed, head over heels, teen movie kind of love that had been the start of their relationship. It was still there. But it was tainted, overshadowed by the spiteful words and heated anger. They were explosive; a perfect time bomb just waiting to go off.

 

_Oh and why can’t I quit_

_When you break my heart open_

_I need you more than I know_

_Oh and I can’t resist_

_When you’re up against my skin_

_I never want to let go_

Tears streamed down both of their cheeks, leaving shimmering trails that hadn’t faded for what seemed like weeks. The suitcase had been moved from its previous place in the corner of the room, and now sat open in the centre of the floor. They had thought, naively, for a few days that maybe it could work. At night, when the sun went down it seemed so did all the bad emotions, giving way to passion and love and romance. But then the sun came back up, and so did everything they didn’t have to think about while they were pressed against each other under the bed covers. And so that day, Steve packed his clothes into the suitcase. And Tony collapsed to the floor, sobs tearing through his chest as Steve walked out the front door.

 

_You’re perfectly wrong for me_

_And that’s why it’s so hard for me_

_Yeah you’re perfectly wrong for me_

_Yeah you’re perfectly wrong for me_

_Hate that you know that I won’t leave_

_Yeah you’re perfectly wrong for me_


End file.
